


All Loved Up: The Knight of Flowers

by shinyhuman



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: All Loved Up, All Loved Up Collection, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Master/Servant, Smut, alllovedup, but in a roleplay sense, knight!Ann, queen!Anne, service top!Anne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29437629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyhuman/pseuds/shinyhuman
Summary: In this universe, knights are like dancers, their weapons extensions of themselves as they show off their skill in duels staged before the kingdom—and, of course, Queen Lister herself. Ann is a burgeoning knight with terrible nerves before the biggest duel of her life, but with the help of a little tenderness, Ann proves to herself what her queen already knows.
Relationships: Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 56





	All Loved Up: The Knight of Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> My submission to the All Loved Up Challenge. Thank you to Canary and LadyWoman for the prompts and the organizing! <3

Ser Ann Walker of Shibden, newest inductee to the Royal Order of Knights, dubbed “the Knight of Flowers” by her admirers, allowed herself to take a deep breath of frosty winter air. She relaxed her grip on her sword and focused on keeping her chest puffed out and the blade parallel to the ground—Steed Form, her favorite stance to take when she needed to rest in the middle of a sequence. Blue-white snow reflected in the blade, bathing the weapon in creamy white, like delicately carved marble. Her armor bore the same reflection, always transforming with the landscape; some knights colored their armor in hues of blues, greens, and gold, but Ann preferred the crisp reflection of traditional steel. Pink, yellow, blue, and green flowers tossed at her from the crowd was a display all its own, and in winter, the white ground and sky gave her armor a timeless, ethereal quality. Ann pretended she was a statue, holding the form, drawing in deep breaths, willing herself to be still.

Ann’s outstretched arm trembled, and she exhaled in ragged breaths. Sloppy. Stupid. Even after almost a decade of knighthood, a dozen victories in the kingdom’s most prestigious duels, and the recognition of Queen Lister herself, Ann felt like an impostor the night before a duel. Like she’d somehow tricked everyone into thinking she was worthy of knighthood—dedicated, strong, artistic, beautiful—but she wasn’t, and they’d find her out. 

Her brother chose the brutal path of a soldier, and her sister that of political marriage, and both had paid the price. Ann had escaped both fates, choosing knighthood instead, and was lauded for her accomplishments. It was only a matter of time before she paid her price for happiness, too. 

Ann changed her form, gripping her sword with both hands above her head and keeping her chin parallel to the ground—Flower Form, a stance of strength, her body planted into the ground like roots. 

Before Ann became a knight, her anxiety spun out of control, and she spiralled deeper and deeper into darkness. The forms brought her back, connecting her to reality, where her body was, the fluid movements both science and art. Competition and celebration, like flowers competing for sunlight, flourishing under gentle warmth. Knighthood was a celebration of the body, its place in the universe, and duels like a dance, a contest of unity in a divided world. 

Flower Form gave Ann a sense of awareness of her body that was difficult to ignore, especially after hours of practicing in the cold. Stiff fingers, crackling knees, and the light chatter of her teeth overwhelmed her. Hunger gnawed at her belly. Practicing like this was unhealthy, as there was nothing to be gained from overworking herself, but the anxiety lodged in her throat made her restless. 

She stopped only when Queen Lister’s servant, Miss Cordingley, crunched toward her through the snow. When Ann lowered her sword, she realized how late it was—the ground and sky had swapped brightness, the snow magnifying the moonlight tenfold across the courtyard. 

“Her majesty’s asked to see you, ser,” Cordingley said. 

“Um, of course. I’ll head there straight away.”

Ann hoped her blush wasn’t visible. Queen Lister had enchanted her on the first day they met—far from the first day the castle became her home, or even when she earned her title—when Ann was a little girl. Queen Lister was only the heir apparent back then, a wild and unconventional member of the court, but Ann was awestruck at her fierce independence. She still retained a bit of that childish awe in the queen’s presence. 

And in their last few encounters, well—something  _ else  _ had replaced her awe.

Miss Cordingley led Ann to the queen’s study, which was linked to her private rooms by a hidden tunnel. Ann’s blush crept to her ears at the memories of walking that passageway—the strong grip of her majesty’s hand, the warm imprint of her kiss on Ann’s lips and neck, and the gentle mark of her teeth on Ann’s throat each flooded back to her. Her heart hammered in her chest. Since the Queen’s Duel was announced a few months ago—had it really only been that long?—Queen Lister summoned her for both private and professional matters with startling unpredictability. She once summoned Ann to her private quarters at 3AM to discuss Ann’s armor choices for the contest, and once again midday for a cup of tea and a gentle kiss. Ann had no idea what to expect.

When Ann entered the study, the queen stood at her desk, dressed in a simple forest green coat. Her crown was a lick of gleaming silver tangled in her brown-and-gray hair. She flashed a smile, and Ann almost forgot to bow.

“How are you, Ann? I heard you’ve been working yourself to the bone,” Anne asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I—“

“Have you eaten? You look famished. Cordingley, go fetch dinner. If nothing’s hot, have them make something. And get a bottle of wine, please. Nothing too strong.”

“That’s very generous of you, your majesty, but I—“

“Ann, darling, you’ve seen me naked. We hardly need to exchange titles, don’t you think?”

Ann blushed. A sudden wave of bravery took hold of her, and she teased, “If I recall, you quite like being called ‘your majesty,’  _ especially _ in, um, more intimate settings.”

Anne flashed a toothy smile. She gestured to a young child that had replaced Cordingley at the doorframe, beckoning them forward. 

“Let the squire take off your armor, darling, and we’ll get it polished for the duel tomorrow. How are you feeling?”

Ann swallowed, watching the servants’ faces for a glimmer of interest. Nothing. She was so forward. How often did she do this sort of thing that her servants didn’t even bat an eye?

“Um, nervous. Every minute I practiced today my movements and sequences—urgh. Just got worse. I’m sorry. Whatever you have riding on this—I hope you have another plan. I won’t be good enough, I—I’ll fail you,” Ann said, deflated. 

A small hand touched Ann’s arm, urging her to raise it. Ann wordlessly obeyed while the squire unbuckled her armor. The steel was thin with delicate carvings, not too heavy, but Ann felt a great weight lift from her shoulders as the child removed each plate.

“You won’t,” Anne informed her. “I chose you as my champion because of your skill and nothing else. On the field, you are beautiful and precise, and possess enviable softness. Knights can be terribly narcissistic creatures, but you meld with your partners’ movements seamlessly. That’s how you caught my eye, you know. I’ve never met anyone who could make Tib look—make her  _ movements _ look...purposeful.”

“I’ll do what I can for you,” Ann promised. “I always get nervous when I duel someone I’ve never met or watched.”

“Uncertainty is wise. See? Tomorrow will be no problem for you, I’m sure of it,” Anne murmured. “You need food and rest more than practice.”

The squire finished removing Ann’s armor, shucking off the chestplate with a stifled groan. Now in only a soft cotton undershirt and leggings, Ann felt woefully underdressed next to Anne, whose stiff coat and gleaming crown accentuated her elegance. The queen’s gaze lingered on Ann’s chest. Ann dared to meet her eyes, and Anne smiled onto her glass.

Cordingley returned soon after with a line of servants. Their “dinner” was akin to a little feast; the servants spread sandwiches, soups, glazed yams, little cakes, and even a small chicken roast across the table before Anne shooed them away. 

“Eat,” Anne commanded. 

Ann didn’t hesitate to obey. Anne’s firm tone shovelled food onto her plate, while her hand on the small of Ann’s back forked food into her mouth. Or maybe it was hunger. Hunger, however, never overrode the etiquette instilled in Ann’s bones quite like this. She hardly finished chewing one bite before taking the next.

“How is it?” Anne asked tenderly, just as Ann stuffed a forkful of yam in her mouth.

Ann nodded enthusiastically, hoping it conveyed, “Great!” The queen seemed to get the idea, and kissed the corner of Ann’s mouth while her hand slipped beneath the hem of her shirt. Ann tried to maintain her composure while Anne’s strong, gentle fingertips traced the length of her spine. Warmth trickled over her skin, the touch so soft and tender it left Ann aching for more. Ann swallowed her bite, then gasped when Anne’s hand splayed across her shoulderblades. How was her hand so  _ big _ ?

“Ah. Have you finished eating? Now that we’re just about settled, will you let me take care of you?” Anne purred.

Her lips were so close to Ann’s, Ann could hardly process the question. Ann’s mouth went dry. She wished the queen would read her mind instead, and take her right there, and do whatever she wanted with her. But, of course, Anne didn’t; she simply waited.

“I—I don’t want to trouble you,” Ann said.

But she  _ desperately _ did.

“Nonsense. You must be aching terribly from working that lovely little body all day. I’ve got just the idea,” Anne said sweetly, brushing the tip of Ann’s nose with a finger.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Mmm, you’ll see. Cordingley!” Anne called sharply. The servant arrived on the last syllable of her name. “Set up the bath in my rooms. The usual salts, soaps, and maybe a few petals. And—bring the big tub. I want to stretch out a little.”

Cordingley disappeared. Anne rolled her eyes and, catching Ann’s, chuckled. Ann smiled awkwardly, wondering if there was a joke that went over her head.

“She can have quite an attitude sometimes,” Anne explained reproachfully. 

“I—how can you tell? She seemed perfectly obedient to me,” Ann said. In fact, the servant had said  _ nothing _ during the entire exchange.

“You develop a sixth sense for these things,” Anne said stiffly. “You’ll see. The water will be barely lukewarm. I’m going to go in and make sure it’s done right. No, no—don’t get up. Finish your meal and meet me in a few minutes. You know the way?” It was more of a question than a statement.

“I know the way,” Ann confirmed shyly.

Anne left down the secret passageway, so Ann—from nerves more than hunger—filled a second plate with fruits and cakes, taking a bite of each. Each encounter with the queen was like surfacing from a dream; each kiss, each touch, each  _ look  _ made her feel alive, and everything else was less important. Even the duel tomorrow seemed distant, and Ann’s anxiety waned. Now, there was only Anne, a few short minutes away in the other room. Waiting was torture.

Ann nervously nibbled the end of a strawberry while she stared at the clock. After a few minutes—and half a dozen strawberries—Ann scampered down the hallway to her lover, her heart thrumming in her chest.

***

When Ann opened the door, the queen stood before her in a bathrobe. She was clearly naked underneath, the soft cloth loose on her chest and waist, stopping just above her knees. Ann caught the hint of her muscular thigh, and bit the inside of her cheek. Steam rolled off the surface of the water in the tub behind her. The air smelled of lavender, and dozens of candles peppered the room, their melted wax pooling to the stone floor in fat drops. Tonight was different than before. Why had Anne given this much effort to simply relax her?

“I—oh, Anne. This is  _ wonderful _ ,” Ann gushed. “You didn’t need to go to all this trouble. I-I can be dramatic when I’m—“

“Shh,” Anne hushed her with a gentle kiss. Ann sank into her tender touch, wrapping her arms around Anne’s wide shoulders. “Let me spoil you. I’d like you to get used to that.”

_ Get used to that _ . The things Anne implied with that—no. She couldn’t  _ mean _ them. Ann was hardly special. She was the queen’s flavor of the month, and she knew that. She had come to terms with it. Ann’s family was nobility, and she grew up hearing the rumors swirling around the court; she’d be a fool if she thought this relationship was long-term. Anne was sweet, soft, tender, and liked to mess around a little. They were just having _ fun _ .

Ann hummed with satisfaction from Anne’s kisses, but said, “Mmm, I d-don’t know if I should. You’re—you know,  _ the queen _ , and I—I mean, my family is—well, they’re  _ fine _ , I suppose, but I’m hardly the—“

“Sweet, lovely girl, let yourself be happy. It’s all right,” Anne murmured. 

Then, the queen fell to her knees, looking up at her, reverent.

Ann panicked. Instinct pushed her to follow the queen, but Anne clicked her tongue.

“Don’t defer to me. If this is to work, right now, in these rooms, we are equals. You must become more comfortable with me. Do you understand? Mmm. I’m your servant now, my knight, tell me what you need,” Anne said gently.

“What—what do you mean?”

“Tell me what you want. Give me direction. A command.”

Ann glanced at the tub, then back at Anne, unsure. She knew what to ask for from a servant, but from the queen? A lifetime of deference was difficult to unlearn, even on command. Ann stuttered when she spoke, but Anne looked up at her with reverence.

“Can we—will you—give me a bath?” 

“Of course.”

Anne scooped her in her arms, and Ann squealed in surprise. The bathrobe had pulled loose, revealing Anne’s bare chest. The gentle swell of her breast set Ann’s body aflame. She smoothed her palms over Anne’s collarbones, rested their foreheads together, leaned in slowly, then stopped as an idea took hold of her. 

“Kiss me,” Ann commanded in a whisper.

Anne did, gently. Too gently. So gently, Ann craved more than her queen could give, and her lips grew insistent, her mouth ravenous. Her teeth nicked Anne’s lip, and when she pulled away, their chins and cheeks gleamed with saliva. Anne grinned.

“That’s the spirit,” Anne said.

Ann blushed. “Undress me,” she dared.

Anne knelt again, pausing to kiss the thin line of her belly before she eased Ann’s tunic over her head as delicately as if it were made of silk. Steam spilled over the edge of the tub, as hot as the heat of Anne’s break on her skin, begging them nearer. 

“ _ Anne _ ,” she scolded gently. “No distractions. Get in the bath, please.”

“Are you always this kind to the servants? Now I know why they try to take advantage. You could stand to be a little meaner,” Anne teased.

“Of course. They’re people, just like you and me,” Ann said. “Now, if you  _ don’t mind _ , Miss Lister…”

Anne ignored her. She kissed Ann’s bare stomach with an open mouth, squeezed her ass, and began to creep lower, placing feather-light kisses from her bellybutton to the inside of her thigh. Ann gripped her arm for balance. All of her wanted Anne’s mouth at her center, devouring her fully, stifling the building fire there with her tongue. Ann tried to hook her leg—however awkwardly—over Anne’s shoulder to give her access, but Anne stopped her. Ann thought she heard a gentle chuckle.

Blasted woman. She was  _ teasing _ her.

“Please,” Ann begged.

In lieu of a response, Anne nipped the inside of her thigh, the hot heat of her breath brushing her clit. She kissed the top of Ann’s bush and looked up, a gleam in her eye. Her strong hand gripped the outsides of Ann’s thighs and held her steady while she stood.

“Was it a bath you wanted, Ser Walker?”

“I…” Ann wasn’t sure she had the patience for this game anymore. How could she command Anne to take her right here and now, on the cold stone floor of the room, without saying so? Her cheeks flared with warmth; her legs were like jelly, and she was already soaked before touching the water. She simply wouldn’t last.

“Get in the tub. Now,” Ann commanded thickly.

Anne raised her eyebrows, but obeyed immediately. She shed her robe the rest of the way, revealing the lean, muscular body that permeated Ann’s fantasies. Anne gave her a few moments to appreciate the view—grinning wide—before she stepped into the tub. Soapy suds lapped her body like waves. She rested back in the tub with a luxurious groan.

“Will you be joining me?”

Ann stepped into the water. Heat crept from her toes to her fingertips, a different kind of warmth than that radiating from between her legs. She sat on Anne’s lap, facing the same direction, and the queen took her cue and wrapped her arms around her. Anne’s lips were already at her neck, kissing and sucking her gently, teasing.

Ann’s voice trembled from the effort of speaking evenly. “I need—my back scrubbed, your m—Miss Lister.”

Anne’s voice was a low purr in her ear. “You’re in luck—I hear I’m very good with my hands,” she said. 

Before Ann had the chance to chastise her, the butt of Anne’s hands worked the base of her neck, softening muscles she hadn’t even realised were tense. Ann sank forward with a long groan, her lips nearly touching the water. The queen was indeed spectacular with her hands, undoing Ann’s entire body like a loose thread until her muscles hummed with a different kind of exhaustion. After minutes or hours, Anne finished, placing a gentle kiss behind her ear.

“How was that?” she asked.

Ann groaned, “Amazing. My entire body is on fire. But, um, in a good way. I feel like a little cloud.”

“You are a little cloud,” Anne quipped affectionately. “Now, my knight, tell me what you need me to do.”

As if Ann’s body could handle more than that! Ann laughed, and her laughter faded into a sigh. She watched Anne’s middle finger absently trace circles on her thigh, dragging miniscule bubbles that flickered orange and gold with candlelight over her skin. Ann was comfortable and tired, but found she couldn’t think about anything other than where she wanted that fingertip.

Ann said, “I—mmm—between my legs next, Miss Lister. Good and clean, or I’ll, um, I’ll—”

Ann didn’t need to divine a threat for the queen; she choked on her words as Anne’s fingertips began stroking her clit.

“Is this good enough, ser? Forgive me, I’ve never taken care of a knight,” she murmured.

“I— _ oh _ —” 

Ann shuddered into Anne’s body. The queen pressed a kiss to Ann’s cheek, then said, “What was that, my knight? I’m afraid I didn’t understand what it was you wanted.” 

“I said—oh,  _ gods _ , Anne—”

Every time Ann opened her mouth to speak, Anne’s free hand circled her entrance and dipped in, stealing the words from Ann’s throat. It became a frustrating game—Anne asking questions, making comments, begging Ann to respond, and her glorious fingers stealing Ann’s voice away, frustration inflaming the building tension in her belly. 

Ann hooked one arm around Anne’s neck while the other gripped Anne’s forearm, wordlessly begging her to keep going. Anne obeyed, two of her long, strong fingers curling inside her while her thumb pet Ann’s swollen clit. Ann cried out, her orgasm taking hold of her, and the queen held her steady. 

Ann collapsed on her, breathing heavily. Anne peppered gentle kisses on her cheeks and throat, patient while Ann caught her breath.

“That was...I’m  _ exhausted _ ,” Ann laughed, still out of breath.

“Does that mean you want to go again?” Anne said, flashing a toothy grin.

Ann wanted so badly to say yes. She didn’t want the night to be over. Yet, the water had gone cold, most of the candles blew themselves out, and Ann wasn’t sure she’d even be able to stand. She wished she could say she needed another orgasm more than she needed sleep or a warm bed, but that was impossible tonight.

“I wish I could. But if we did, I think my body would kill me,” Ann said woefully. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more tired and relaxed in my life.”

“And cold,” Anne observed, noting the chatter of her teeth. “Let’s get you comfortable. There’s a reason the hearth is next to my bed and not all the way over here.”

Together, they toppled out of the tub, slipping and sliding on the wet stone floor. Anne wrapped the softest towel Ann had ever touched on her life around her shoulders, then, with a mischievous grin, smacked her butt lightly with her own. Ann squeaked in surprise, then returned it, and scrambled across the room to hide behind the opposite side of the bed.

“Oh, I see what this is,” Anne said. 

They chased each other around and over the bed, laughing and screaming—well,  _ Ann _ screamed—with terrible excitement until they were both out of breath again. Anne pinned her to the mattress, breathing heavily, a wide smile brightening the entire room. Ann looked up at her, brimming with affection.

“I win,” Anne declared.

“That was very good. You should be a knight, you know—you’re much better than I am,” Ann said.

“It makes it less fun to win when you’re so good-natured about it.”

“You’re much better than I am at the naked towel-hitting events, I mean. What you lack in grace, you make up for in...conviction.”

“There it is.”

They settled into the bed, almost by accident. Ann didn’t protest when the queen pulled her close and began stroking her hair, brushing the still-damp threads lightly with her fingers. Ann kissed her, their skin sticking together in the in-between of damp and dry. She wished they’d never become unstuck.

“Why did you become a knight?” Anne murmured eventually. “Was it just your talent for it? You’re gorgeous out there, you know. Flawless.”

Ann blushed, snuggling into Anne’s bare chest. “I didn’t want to get married. Having a higher calling is the only way to avoid it, if I want,” she answered. 

“What’s so terrible about marriage?”

“It’s not marriage as an  _ institution, _ I just—I don’t want to be married off to a stranger just to raise children. And that’s—well. I’ll never get what I want, in that regard.”

“And what do you want?”

Ann sighed, and the sigh turned into a giggle. Some things that seemed insurmountable and important suddenly seemed childish when said out loud.

“I want to marry someone I love,” she admitted.

“I suppose that’s the trouble with being a pretty girl from a noble family. Your choices hardly ever get to be your own. Yet here you are,” Anne observed. She kissed the crown of her head. “You’ve avoided it, and you’re still so solemn.”

“I’m silly that way, I suppose. It still feels...like the possibility is hanging over my head. Especially with Sam gone...” Ann said, wilting when she thought of her brother.

“Oh, I don’t think so. Do you have any idea how many suitors I’ve turned down, much to the chagrin of my family?” She didn’t wait for Ann to guess before she laughed and answered, “Enough that they don’t come to me anymore.”

Moments like these filled Ann with awe for her queen. Mustering the strength to go against her family’s wishes once—much less countless times—seemed impossible. Yet, Anne defied them as if it were easy as breathing. The royal court buzzed with nasty rumors and awful jokes about Anne all Ann’s life—was that the price she paid for her freedom? Was it  _ worth _ it, and could Ann do the same?

She didn’t know. She liked to think she could, eventually, but couldn’t say for sure what might happen when anxiety clutched her heart.

“I should go,” Ann said. “I’m sorry. I’m very sleepy.”

“Stay tonight. Please,” Anne said. She wasn’t commanding, Ann realized, her throat going dry. She was  _ pleading _ .

“I want to, but...I’m sure you do this with everyone, which is fine, but I, um, I can’t—” Ann took a breath. “It would make this mean more for me. It would mean—I would be—it would break my heart if you didn’t feel the same and I...stayed.”

“Ann. Look at me,” Anne said.

Ann met her eyes. Anne’s earthy brown gaze was tender conviction. She believed in herself, and every word that poured from her mouth. Did that mean when she looked at Ann, she saw half-built scaffolding, rusted by self-doubt? Fear gripped her. Even though Ann knew she wasn’t good enough for the queen, she desperately wanted to be; Ann loved her. 

“You mean the world to me. I’m serious about you, and about us. Everything has had such bad timing, with this duel, and—and other things, getting in the way. I’d like to announce our courtship,” Anne said. “As early as tomorrow, after the duel. Or the day after next, so we can celebrate your victory fully,” she amended.

Just like that, Anne extinguished her terrible thoughts with a few words. 

“Really?”

“Yes. With your permission, obviously,” Anne said, grinning. 

“I—I mean, yes, of course, I—”

Suddenly, Anne pulled back, tumbling off the bed. Ann spun to face her, worried that something was wrong. Anne smiled apologetically, and began digging in the drawer of her bedside table, searching for something. 

“I was going to give this to you tomorrow, before the duel, but now seems more...right,” she explained. “Ah. Here it is.” Anne returned to the bed with a little black box. She offered it to Ann. “Open it.”

Ann took it from her, her heart pounding. A thick, heart-shaped ruby was nestled in the box, framed with silver and gleaming in the fading candlelight. It was an impressive piece of jewelry, and beautiful. Ann withdrew it, and a long, silver chain spilled through her fingers.

“It’s so beautiful,” Ann gushed. “Anne, this is too elegant a gift. I—I shouldn’t accept it.”

“Yes, you should. And think of me when you wear it tomorrow. It’ll bring you luck,” Anne said. “Not that you need it.”

“Oh, I already think of you always,” Ann replied. Realizing what she’d said, she turned to Anne, blushing. “I mean, of course I will, I—I love you.”

Anne pulled her close again. She kissed Ann’s forehead tenderly.

“I love you, too.”

Ann fell asleep, wrapped in Queen Lister’s arms, her anxiety for the upcoming duel long gone.


End file.
